Goodbye to Start Again
by Kabbima
Summary: Bella loses all she holds dear to her heart.  She must learn to live again for those she loves, even though the pain is all encompassing.  Sometimes Goodbyes can open the door to a new beginning.  Rated M for later on.


**All characters belong to Stephanie Myer, I just want to play with them.**

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><p>Prologue<p>

_Bella_

I woke up screaming, sweat beading on my face and chest. This routine had become all too familiar to me, but every time it was as painful as the first time it happened. The first time I woke to the cold emptiness beside me, a void that would never again be filled. As I looked at the emptiness beside me I knew that it was only one of the voids in my life. It had become full of missing parts, like a puzzle where pieces had been lost, something that could never be complete. Each day I woke in the same fashion, screaming out the pain that was trapped in me, the shattered pieces of my soul looking for any release to the agony that gripped it.

The sunlight poured in through the window, lighting up the reminders that were far from subtle. They screamed at me from all around. I closed my eyes wishing that they would be gone when my eyes opened, but at the same time not able to bear the pain it would cause if they were. Here in my room the pain was nearly too much to bear, the reminders of him everywhere. I knew though that this was my one safe haven, the rest of the house contained mementos of my previous joy, joy that I could never have again. That thought ripped through me, shattering my soul even more and causing the screams to come again.

I don't know how long I lay screaming, sobbing into the emptiness that was now my life. So many hours had been spent this way since that day that the shock finally wore off, and reality came crashing down around me. I would once again realize what I had lost, then the pain would overtake me and the insane shrieking would begin again. I lay and thought of my miserable existence when voices filled my head, pitiful words of how it would be easier soon, that the nightmares would stop and the screaming with them. No one was ludicrous enough to suggest the pain would go away, just that I would learn to live with it, that one day it wouldn't consume every moment of my existence. How easy it was to be on the outside looking in, to comfort one who went through something that they had no clue about. I know they wished to help, but their words made me laugh, one of the few things that did anymore. They would never know, at least I prayed they wouldn't, what it felt like to be me.

Slowly the sobbing was replaced by a grumbling in my stomach and I knew that I could no longer avoid getting out of bed. I made my way to the kitchen, following one of the paths through my home that I didn't avoid. Even here, in the place that is supposed to be safe I avoided most of it, not able to bear the reminders that were all around. The fridge was full of pre-made food. I couldn't sink so low as to eat out all the time, but I couldn't stand to cook any either. I avoided all things that reminded me of better days. I had tried, tried to pick up the pieces and move on, but I found the days that I looked my past in the face that the screaming the following night was worse, unbearable.

The microwave dinged and drew me out of my stupor. I pulled the pastry off the tray, barely able to recognize or remember what it was that I had cooked. I slowly ate, not tasting what it was, just knowing that I had to force the sustenance into my body. My routine very rarely strayed from the norm, and today was no different. After forcing the food down I climbed into the shower letting the warm water momentarily release me from the world. I stood with the water pouring over my head and body letting the heat release my muscles. Slowly I reached down and stopped the drain, letting the tub slowly fill with water. Then I slowly sank down to my knees and sat until the tub nearly over flowed before pulling the plug and allowing the water to drain before it could escape and cascade onto the tile floor below. I sat repeating this process until the water began to run cold. Slowly I stood again, shutting of the water and then stepping out to reach for a towel.

I slowly went through the process of getting ready. For many months I avoided the mirror, choosing to quickly shower, throw sweats on and then go back to bed. This was one of my few processes that had improved over time. Now I spent hours in the bathroom getting ready. I would sit in front of the mirror and make sure that every hair was perfectly in place, that my makeup, my mask, was flawless. It was the only way to stop the questions and the looks that those around me gave. The only way to pretend that I wasn't a complete wreck and that somewhere deep inside there was still a functioning human. Today this process was worth the trouble because I knew I needed to go to the store for groceries. Most days it didn't matter because I hid at home, but it still made me feel slightly better that I didn't smell like a wild animal, or look like one for that matter, and that was a small comfort to me.

I sat at the kitchen table, slowly trying to come up with something to shop for, I knew I needed to go, but nothing that I normally bought sounded good to me. Eventually I gave up and decided I would just roam through the store until something caught my eye, at least I would be out of the house, away from the pain. Quickly I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, pausing to lock it and then headed for the car. I sat in the drive way with the engine running, waiting for it to heat up. I should have thought of starting it earlier so that the frost would be gone from the windshield, but it was too late now. As I waited I slowly went through the music, trying to find something to fill the silence. Eventually I settled for putting the IPod on shuffle and randomly selected a song. I put the car in reverse and backed out the driveway focusing on the rearview mirror, a tear slid down my cheek as I thought of the smiling faces that used to be there.

I wandered aimlessly through the store, pausing here and there to lift miscellaneous items off the shelf, only to replace those items moments later because the thought of consuming them made my stomach turn. Eventually I wondered over to the meat and decided that I wanted to cook something, this thought took me by surprise, as I hadn't actually cooked something for months. The resolve set in and I focused on gathering several different meats and then heading to the produce section to load up on fresh fruits and vegetables. I knew I gathered far more items than I could eat before they went bad, but I was embracing the way I felt and the thought of a few wasted items didn't bother me. Lastly I headed to the frozen food section, grabbing a pint of my favorite ice cream, an indulgence I figured I could allow myself.

I brought the groceries in from the car, hurrying as the snow began to fall from the dark sky above. I took off my coat and brushed the white flakes from my hair. Quickly I began to put away the groceries, leaving out the items for homemade chicken noodle soup. I prepared the chicken and sat it into the pot to boil along with the onions that I had already chopped. Next I began to chop up the celery and carrots that would be added later. I completed everything while I had the resolve to do it, I feared what this sudden outburst would do to me when I stopped, and so I aimlessly cleaned and prattled around the kitchen, not wanting the sensation of relief to leave. I jumped when the phone began to ring; I sat contemplating whether or not to answer it. By the time I decided that I actually did want to talk to whoever was on the other end, it had stopped ringing and I didn't want to speak to whoever it was bad enough to listen to the messages and call them back. I moved around my house, cleaning and re-cleaning the rooms that I allowed myself to enter. I knew that if I went into the room at the end of the hall that I would crumple, so I avoided it as I always had and re-vacuumed the living room instead. As I wound the cord to the vacuum up I realized that the chicken must be done. Quickly I went to the kitchen and pulled a bowl from the cupboard. I pulled the chicken from the water and placed it in the bowl and then into the freezer.

I waited for the chicken to cool enough to be handled and let myself get careless with my thoughts. The pain began to build in my chest as I thought of the last time I had cooked. Quickly I grabbed a rag and began to dust again, this surprised me. It was the first time I had ever stopped the pain that seeped through me. The first time I refused to let it engulf me and take over, a small smile crept across my lips as I realized what I had done. I finished combining the ingredients for the soup and set it to boil. The soup filled the kitchen with a pleasant aroma as I pulled a bowl and glass from the cupboard. I sat my place at the table, grateful for whatever possessed me to eat here instead of in my bed as I usually did. With the soup in front of me I slowly ate and enjoyed the taste of it. My body seemed to respond to that fact that it was eating something that wasn't packed full of preservatives and all the other things that allow them to sit on a shelf for years and still be edible.

I cleaned up my plate, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was already seven thirty. It was time for my nightly routine to begin and I was grateful I would be getting back in the shower, one of the few places I could escape. Instead of running the shower as usual I again was surprised that I wanted to change my normal routine and have a bubble bath. Slowly I sank down and let the water sooth away my aches and pains. I allowed it to wash away the day, reveling in the calm that washed over me. I took this opportunity to ponder the day. It started out so much like any other day, but it handed ended in such a different way. I thought about how I had taken the strength to stand in the kitchen to cook. This had to be a good sign right? This had to mean that something was changing; silently I prayed it would because I often wondered how long I would be able to live like this. Immediately I knew what I needed to do right now. Quickly I pulled the plug and jumped from the tub.

The car idled quietly as I sat and wondered what I was doing here. I had tried several times to come here, but I never made it through the gate. Here I was now, just feet from them. I stared through the snow for what seemed like hours wondering if I could do this, and if I could what the consequences would be to my soul. Slowly I turned off the car, inhaling deeply I reached for the door handle and stepped out into the quiet world that the snow had created. Slowly and painfully I took each step that would bring them closer to me. Tears streamed down my cheek and I let the moisture freeze on my face. I could think of nothing but controlling my breathing as I slowly inched forward until I faced the markers that I had tried so hard to banish from my mind. Carefully I knelt in the snow, slowly reaching forward to brush the snow from the marker that stood in front of me.

I don't know how long I sat and stared at the names of my husband and my two beautiful children, I only know that if felt as though it was an eternity. For so long I had avoided coming here, fearing that the pain would ultimately shatter the fine tethers that were barely holding my sanity together. I was shocked to realize that even though the pain was unbearable, it wasn't how I thought it would be. I expected to start screaming when I came here the first time, I thought I would have to be drug, kicking and screaming to the place where my life was buried. The tears fell rapidly down my cheeks, but strangely I was at peace being so close to them. It was as though I could feel them near to me, almost as though they had been waiting for me to come. I wasn't ready yet to speak out loud to them, so I quietly whispered how much I loved them, the pain that I went through without them and how much I needed them.

Eventually the tears slowed and I sat quietly again staring at the names and dates on the stone. It had been nearly 18 months since the accident. How had I survived for so long without them? It didn't seem like it had been that long, but at the same time it seemed to have been so much longer. I tried to think over the past year to see what I had done. There was nothing that stood out in my mind. I had been a mindless zombie for so long, and it pained me to think of what they would of thought of my actions. Would they understand how hard it was to live, to function without them? Could they realize that today was the first day since they left that I was any semblance of a human being? Silently I stood and made my way back to the car. It hurt so much to leave them, but my body was frozen, my spirit in pain, and my heart and soul broken.

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><p><strong>If you would like to read more of this story please leave a review, I want to make sure people are actually interested in reading it before I go further in posting! Thanks for reading.<strong>


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